Chapter 6: Carpool Me

Astrid's P.O.V.

I jumped off the sidewalk, Jon at my side, walking towards his truck. Suddenly he grabbed my wrist.

I looked back at him. "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head.

"Is a car coming?"

He shook his head again.

"Then what is it?"

"I, um, I want you to meet some of my friends." He finally said, smiling hopefully.

I smiled back. "Sure."

He beamed. "Great! You already know who they are though, only thing that sucks with being famous, everyone knows you."

My smiled faltered lightly. "Yeah I bet that would suck, and yet people wish to be you a lot."

He looked down at me as we got into his truck, cocking a brow. "Do you wish to be Dean Ambrose sometimes?"

I shook my head. "No, honestly, I'm fine with being a girl, I really don't want to piss standing up and have that area more sensitive as it already is for me, or an extension."

He bursted out laughing. I looked up at him. "What? Its true. Only thing I'd never miss is the periods."

He continued laughing, I shook my head, rolling my eyes, shoving him on his shoulder as he snickered. "Aw c'mon, grow up, you're twenty nine."

"You're twenty six, what's the difference?" He asked between his little fits of laughter.

"I have XX chromosomes, you have XY chromosomes, I don't have an extension, you do, I'm 5'7, your, 6'4, you're loved, I've never been."

He sobered instantly, looking at me with an unreadable expression. "Everyone is loved, Astrid, besides if you're the mistake why did your parents give you a beautiful name that means "star" in Greek? And kept you alive through childhood, their love just might be different."

I sighed, I truly wanted to take his word for it, but as hard as I tried I couldn't. "Then why did they record my brothers raping me and then forced me to watch it after it was over?" I looked over at him. "I truly want to take your word but I've never felt loved by my family, I don't think I'll ever be loved by them . . ."

"People change." He said harshly I looked away from him.

"I know, but my family won't budge on it, they never invite me to anything, on my birthday they never send a simple text of "Happy birthday," they don't talk to me at all."
"What about Cassandra?" He asked, eyes on the road.

"Only friend I've ever had, one that treated me like anyone else and not tease me anyway, pretty much everyone hates me in my life."

"I don't hate you, Astrid."

I looked at him again. "Is that an sincere comment or are you lying?"

"Why would I lie? And you should know that I'm not lying right now."

"Well, your an actor, you specialize in facial expressions. And beating the shit out of others and getting the shit beat out of you."

"Ok," he sighed. "I'll agree with you on that, but I'm not lying. I really do like you."

"And I like you, Jonathan. That is a fact."

He smirked, taping the steering wheel. "I know you do, you're my number one fan." He looked at me with a thoughtful look. "You know what?"

"What?"

"I'm going to get you your every own Dean Ambrose shirt and free passes to any event of WWE. SmackDown, NXT, Raw. Sound fair?"

My jaw dropped after Dean Ambrose shirt, I've always wanted one, I was so happy, I wanted to hug him. "I'm gonna hug you when we get out of this car."

He laughed. "I can give you one of my DA shirts, it might be big, but if you feel special then I'll give one up."

I stared at him like he was a god. "Am I dead and in heaven? Did you crash into a car? Please say no, I don't, even though its awesome, want to be in heaven, yet anyway."

He chucked, resting his forehead on the top of his hand briefly, laughing. "No, I didn't crash, your not in heaven. And all this is happening, I'm giving you a DA shirt of your very own, one of mine, free passes into any WWE event, and now that I think about it. I'm gonna get a Dean Ambrose's number one fan shirt that says Dean's girl."

"Are you God?" I asked in a light, awed, tone, staring at him with wide eyes.

He laughed. "Yes I'm God."

"I love you so much right now, man." I breathed.

Jon tensed at my words, a look of surprise flashed across his handsome face, but it quickly vanished and he laughed. "I bet you do, Baby."

Again with the baby. Why is he calling me that? Was I a baby to him? Did he see me as one or something? Was he buzzed?

I didn't ask, for some reason I liked that he called me baby, it made me feel wanted, and having come from a professional wrestler, I think it would of exploded my ego, if I had a normal amount of it. But no, hanging out Jonathan made my ego blossom up into the normal range where I could feel wanted, noticed, and loved.

"So where are we going?" I asked as I got into my little handbag for the makeup remover, I hadn't taken any of my makeup, I felt like I was taking too long for Jon just changing my clothes so I kept it on.

"My place, you've been there, remember?" He said as I wiped my lipstick off, I nodded.

"Yeah I remember," I looked at him as I rubbed my eye clean of eye-shadow, still keeping the eyeliner on. "Great place you have, but doesn't it get a little annoying to have two other men living with you?"

He sighed, nodding. "Yeah, sometimes. Do you live with anyone?"
"No, I live alone." I answered, balling up the wet wipe and rubbing my hand across my, now cold, face, getting rid of the wetness, my face continued to tingle. "Cassy sometimes comes over and spends the night and we do a lot of fun stuff, but I know she does it because she knows how lonely and boring it gets at my house, which I greatly appreciate."

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips, he slowed down and pulled into a parking lot. "Oh, did you find your car?"

I sighed, sagging my shoulders. "No . . . I haven't, I'm carless still."

He pouted, but he looked more thrilled then sorry about my missing car. "That's too bad, Astrid. Looks like you need a carpooler."

Ahhhh, there it was, he was wanting to carpool me, why, I don't know, his reason wasn't clear, maybe to spend time with me, if that was it I don't know why he'd want to do that.

But he was Dean Ambrose. The Lunatic Fringe. Crazy ass bastard that was unpredictable, unstoppable, unstable, a lot of uns.

"Would you like to be my carpooler, Jonathan?" I asked, facing him from my seat.

He beamed. "I thought you'd never ask, sweetie! I'd love to."

I laughed. "I never thought a WWE wrestler would be my friend and carpooler. Or never thought I'd meet one to be honest."

He leaned over, looking at me from under his eyelashes. "Aren't you glad you met me?"

"Yeah actually I am."

He smiled, turning off the engine. "We're here."

"Already?" I asked, surprised, looking out my window. There it was, a large building with various lights on, shining out of the huge windows. I climbed out still staring up at the complex and shut the door. "Wow . . ."
Jon came over to stand beside me, staring up at the building, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "Yeah, you should see the inside."

"Don't I need to see the inside when I'm going to go there?"

He nodded and started walking towards the building. "To save time we're taking elevator."

"Ok. Either way I don't care." I shrugged, and smiled at him as he opened the door for me. "Thanks."

"Mhm."

He lead me to the elevator, pushing the button and soon later the doors open, we entered and stood in complete silence the stupid elevator music filling the silence. When the doors slid open again we stepped out and walked down the hall.

Jon stopped in front of a door, I could hear yelling and grunting, and stuff being knocked over inside. I looked up at Jon, confused.

He looked just as confused as me and glanced down at me before he opened the door.

My eyes widen at what I saw in the room.

Seth Rollins aka Colby Lopez and Roman Reigns, Joe Anoa'i, fighting, the room trashed.

My jaw dropped, I looked at Jon, he looked . . . pissed and confused. He opened his mouth, taking a deep breath, his chest rising, and let out a loud. "Hey!"

The two stopped and looked at us, Joe pinning Colby down to the floor. Jon took a couple steps forwards in to the room, moving his hand side to side, gesturing to the trashed room. "Whoa, whoa, whoa what's going on here?"

"Hey Jon." Joe greeted, combing his fingers through his long black hair, getting it out of his face. "We're fighting to see who gets the last beer."

Jon stopped mid step. "Last beer?"

"Yeah," Colby finally pitched in, looking up from the floor. "Last beer, it on the counter." He then pointed the best he could to the kitchen, and there it sat. A brown bottle of Bud Light. I looked at the men on the floor with a raised brow. They were seriously fighting for that? There's this place call a store where they sell many more bottles of beers at.

Jon shook his head, mouth agape. "Nuh uh, that beer is mine." He jumped on the men, tackling Joe.

I watched amazed at what I was seeing, then shrugged, heading for the kitchen and jumping up onto a barstool, grabbing the bottle of Bud Light, opening it and taking a drink.

Might as well enjoy the show.